


999, What's Your Emergency?

by Elton_Hercules_John



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Emergency Medical Technicians, Gen, Harry takes him to Crufts, Kinda, Medical Jargon, Medical Procedures, Mild Blood, Mild hurt, Mr Pickle is also a show dog in this AU, Paramedic AU, Paramedic Eggsy Unwin, Paramedic Roxy Morton, Patient Harry Hart, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elton_Hercules_John/pseuds/Elton_Hercules_John
Summary: This series follows paramedic team Eggsy Unwin and Roxy Morton through their many encounters with Harry Hart, who keeps getting injured in mysterious ways.Harry's still a Kingsman agent in this AU, but he can't blow his cover, so has to come up with stories as to how he got these injuries.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to talk about any of my fics, you can message me on tumblr @elton-hercules-john! ❤️

Eggsy fucking loved his job. Yeah, it could be stressful at times, especially with the stabbings and attempted murders. But he also got the good cases, fun cases. Delivering babies in living rooms and helping drunk people on their way home. Well, the drunk ones were only good if they didn't spew or piss down themselves. Or on him. Apart from that, the drunk cases were funny. 

Today, he wasn't dealing with drunk cases. It was Monday, early shift, and he was sitting in the front of the ambulance, his knees tucked up against the dashboard, waiting for another call. They had just been debriefed from a bad case of the flu, having just handed them over to the hospital, then cleaned the back of the ambulance and themselves. This case had been so bad that it called for a uniform change. 

"You know what I fuckin' hate, Rox?" Eggsy looked over at his driver. She was his favourite crewmate to spend his shift with, and they almost always had good shifts together. They simply made a good team. 

"What's that?" She tipped her head towards him, but kept her eyes on the road as she pulled out of the ambulance station. 

"Vomiters." Eggsy groaned. "I can deal with- Right, I can deal with shit and piss, as disgusting as that is. But like… Spew. God, it's the sound and the smell and the look of it… Hate it. Hate it." 

Roxy grinned over at him. "You absolute pansy. It's not that bad." 

"It's bad for me! Anyways…" 

There was a beep from their radio and Eggsy grabbed the walkie talkie. "349, how can we help you?" 

"We've got a 53 year old male, conscious and breathing. He made the call, actually. He's complaining of abdominal pain, could you just go and check on him?" 

Eggsy sighed. "Received, yeah. We'll go check 'im out right now, alright?"

"Brilliant, thank you. Update us when you're done."

"Cool cool." Eggsy hung up, frowning at Roxy. "Right, 53 year old, complaining of a sore tummy."

"Appendicitis?" She offered, turning on the sirens and lights. Eggsy shrugged. 

"That's not exactly stomach area, though… Maybe it is just a poorly stomach and he's bein' overdramatic?" Eggsy checked his phone, then stuffed it away. "Ulcers? Stomach flu? Food poisoning? Acid reflux? Infection? Tumour? Could be fucking anything. Wish he'd been a little more specific. 'Stomach pain'... What kind? Be specific! God…" 

Roxy laughed quietly. "And you're calling the patient overdramatic? You've just gone on a minute long rant about a sore stomach." 

Once they reached the house, Eggsy grabbed his medical kit from the back of the van and ran up to the front door, knocking. "Hello? Can you open up? We're here from the ambulance!" 

It took a minute, but then the door opened. A tall man stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a beige jumper and brown trousers. "Hello. Come in, I'll bring you in to the living room." 

"Wait…" Eggsy looked him up and down. He looked absolutely fine. No grasping his stomach, no paleness from illness, no shaking, nothing. "Did you call an ambulance?" 

"Yes, I did… I've made tea for you two, but I can make coffee if you'd prefer. I'm Harry, by the way." The man seemed really nice, and Eggsy was in need of a brew after the last case. Normally, it was older people who called wolf, just wanting company from the paramedics and a chat over some tea. Yeah, it was a waste of time for him and Roxy, but it just showed how lonely the pensioners around London were. This man wasn't a pensioner, though. 

"Uh, right… Rox, could you take his BP while I take down some details?" Eggsy sat on the arm of the chair, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and chucking some down to Roxy. "Right, mate. I'm Eggsy an' this is Roxy. Do you wanna tell me what's been happening recently? Stomach-wise, that is." 

"Well…" Harry leaned back, letting Roxy pull up his sleeve and wrap a cuff round his arm. She also took his finger, clipping a heart monitor to it. Harry gazed down at the clip while he talked. "It started last night, probably? Yes… And it's just gotten worse throughout the night."

"Have you had anything dodgy to eat recently, mate? Something undercooked?" The man shook his head. "What's your symptoms?" 

"Pain around the stomach area, loss of appetite, slight nausea…" 

"You been sick?" 

"No, not yet." 

"Thank god. I was telling Roxy on the way here, I absolutely hate spew." Eggsy grinned up at him. "You don't mind if I give your stomach a little feel about? Let's get you laid down on the sofa, yeah?" 

Slowly, carefully, Roxy and Eggsy moved the man onto his back. It was clear he didn't like feet on his seats from the face he pulled when Eggsy lifted his feet up onto the pillows. Roxy went back to monitoring Harry's vitals while Eggsy lifted up the man's jumper. There was a big patch of gauze over his stomach. 

"You had a feedin' tube in recently?" Eggsy frowned up at the man. 

"No, no. I put that on myself last night. I've changed it about ten minutes ago, I wanted it to be clean for you coming." Harry put an arm behind his head to cushion it as he glanced down at the gauze. 

"Eh… Alright. Mind if I have a look under it?"

"Be my guest." 

Eggsy peeled the gauze back and his heart sunk. This wasn't an illness. This wasn't ulcers or a tumour or food poisoning. This was a stab wound, bleeding and leaking. Eggsy quickly put the gauze back, covering the wound up again, applying pressure. "Shit, Rox, how's his BP?" 

"Really low, what's happening down there?" Roxy looked between the man, Eggsy, and the heart rate monitor. The man looked deathly calm. "Is he alright?" 

"Harry, why didn't you tell me you'd been stabbed?! Hid that well, didn't you?!" Eggsy peeled back the gauze to show Roxy. She nearly choked on her spit. Harry just tried to sit up to get a better look at it. 

"I didn't want to bother you much. It's only a little wound, but I wouldn't want to risk driving to hospital, collapsing at the wheel and causing an even bigger problem…" Harry sighed, talking awfully casually as blood trickled from his wound. "And I didn't want to take a taxi in case I collapsed or got blood on the seats. It would be rather annoying for the driver, I believe." 

Eggsy looked up at Roxy. Breathed a quiet 'fucking hell…', then dug in the bag for more gauze to press against the wound. "Get the stretcher, Rox, we'll get him out of here ASAP."

As Roxy ran for the stretcher, Eggsy looked over the heart monitor. "You feelin' a bit lightheaded, Harry? A bit dizzy?"

"Just the slightest, not worryingly so." Harry grunted as he sat up, but Eggsy pushed him back down. 

"Right, mate. Think that's worthy of a hospital trip and we're gonna give you a blood transfusion while we're in the ambo." Eggsy smiled. "Not 'fraid of needles, are you?" 

"No, no. I don't mind." Every time Harry tried to sit up, Eggsy pushed him back down. 

"Don't be an idiot, mate. Stay down, you've got a stab wound that needs stitches. If you move right now, it's gonna pull on that wound of yours." Eggsy pulled back the gauze to check the wound, then pressed on it again, making Harry grit his teeth. 

When Roxy ran back with the stretcher, Eggsy scooped Harry up and lifted him onto it. Harry chuckled up at him. "You're very strong. Lifting an old man like me up onto that stretcher…" 

"Oh, you ain't that old. Don't worry 'bout it." Eggsy patted Harry's hand as he pushed the stretcher out into the ambulance. "You drive, Rox. I'll take him in the back. Try to keep it steady just while I get this blood line in 'im. Drive balls to the wall after that… Kidding. Maybe." Eggsy winked at her as she closed the doors on him. 

Now that they were alone in the back, Eggsy started to slowly pull Harry's jumper off. "Sorry for this, mate. I know I'm probably hurtin' you pulling this off, ain't I? I'm trying to do it nice an' slow." 

Once Harry's jumper was off, Eggsy made quick work of attaching the heart monitor stickers, then starting the blood transfusion and administering painkillers. "There we go… Sorry for stickin' you with so many needles, I know it feels sore."

"It's no matter, just do what you must…" Harry smiled up at him, trying not to grimace as Eggsy pressed on his wound again. 

"We've got a crew waiting for you at A&E, just so you're aware. How did you get stabbed, if you don't mind me askin'?" Eggsy tried to make small talk to distract Harry from the immense amount of pain he was probably in. "Just that… When I normally deal with stabbings, it's, uh… Younger lads? Not saying you're old or anythink, just that most stabbings are guys in their twenties, get me?" 

"I get you…" Harry went silent for a second, then grunted quietly. "I honestly can't remember how I got this wound, but I won't be pressing charges, if it was from someone else."

"You can't remember who stabbed you?" Eggsy frowned. "Did you black out at all after you were attacked?" 

"No, I just can't remember. I'm sorry." Harry sighed, then grunted again. It was clear the pain was finally truly getting to him, despite the painkillers he was being given via the drip. 

Eggsy didn't believe him. Sirens of 'Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit!' were going off in his head about Harry not being able to remember the stabbing. "Right…" He sighed. "We're nearly at hospital, anyways. But honestly, Harry? Tell those nurses the truth, yeah? They're not gonna arrest anyone cause of you, they don't have that power." 

"I promise you, I cannot remember." 

"Alright, Harry. You got anyone at home to look after you once you get back?" 

Harry's face dropped. "Shit." 

"What? Everything alright?" 

"I've left Mr Pickle on his own…" 

"Mr… Pickle?"

"My dog… Walk On Pretty Master Pickles is his full name… He's a… He's a show dog… Cairn terriers are my breed…" Harry's pained face broke for just a second, smiling up at Eggsy. "We went to Crufts last year… Best of breed... I was so proud…" 

Eggsy grinned. Harry was clearly a dog person, then. "Do you have anyone that you could contact to keep an eye on 'im, then? And an eye on you, once you get out of hospital."

"Hm… I'll give Hamish a call. He's the only one that I trust with Mr Pickle. He's a very high maintenance dog, you know." 

"Yeah… I got a pug myself, name's JB. He don't have a fancy name like yours." Eggsy reached down and gave Harry's hand a little squeeze of support through the pain. "Don't think he's smart enough to go to Crufts, really." Eggsy shrugged. 

"I'm sure he's a… Lovely… Pug." Harry forced out between gritted teeth. He had never liked pugs, with their squashed faces and history of breathing problems. "If you were to compete against me, we would be in the toy class together… Small dogs, the both of them…"

"Wouldn't say JB was small. 'E gets my scraps. Vet says he needs to go on a diet, actually." Eggsy hummed. "See, I can look after my own body," He flexed his muscles to prove his point and make Harry laugh. "But honestly, I dunno how many rolls on a pug is too much. Cause like, they're already rolly as is. You get me?" 

Harry just tutted. 

Soon, they pulled up outside the hospital. Roxy opened the back doors of the ambulance, grinning at the both of them. "Hey, you two. Heard you talking about dogs while I was driving. Something about pickles, too?" 

"My dog is called Mr Pickle." 

"I see! Nice name, love it. Let's get you handed over, Harry." As Roxy pushed the stretcher, Eggsy kept pressure on the wound the entire time. The bleeding had seemed to stop, thankfully. Once they had handed over to the nurses and doctors, Harry's stretcher being flocked by them, Harry peered over their shoulders. 

"Eggsy? Roxy?" 

"Rox, wait. Yeah, Harry?" 

"Thank you so much for helping me..." 

"That's alright, Harry. You should be thanking the doctors and nurses, they're the ones patching you up. We're just your taxi." 

"Truly, Eggsy… Thank you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to talk about any of my fics, you can message me on tumblr @elton-hercules-john! ❤️ And always, kudos, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

The second time Roxy and Eggsy met Harry Hart, they were on the Friday nightshift, a few months after their first callout to Harry's house. They were busy as anything, a lot of drunk calls and overdoses, which were always fun to deal with.

After dropping off another patient at the drunk tank, Eggsy and Roxy climbed back into the ambulance, Eggsy checking his watch as he did so. 1:15AM.

"Kebab?" Eggsy offered with a hopeful grin. 

"Hm…" Roxy pondered it over, though she already knew the answer. "Yeah, alright. Kebab sounds really good." 

Just as they pulled out of A&E for dinner, their radio beeped. "Fuck's sake! 349, come in." 

"Hello, 349. We have a male, 53, complaining of vomiting, fever, and confusion. Possible poisoning." 

"Right… Where's this patient?" Eggsy already had an inkling. 

"The mews." 

"It's that Harry Hart, ain't it? The one that got stabbed." He looked over at Roxy, who nodded. 

"God, it is…" She sighed, turning on the lights and sirens. "First stabbed, now poisoned? What does he do as a job?" 

"Hm… Police?" He raised an eyebrow at Roxy, tapping on his phone the entire way there. 

"Stabbing, yes. Poisoning? Doubt it." Roxy huffed. "When have you ever heard of a police officer getting poisoned?" 

"Maybe he's got an enemy. Maybe he's got a hit out on him." Eggsy grinned, rubbing his hands together. "God, this is juicy. He seems too posh to be a police officer, you get me? Maybe he's a politician." 

"I've never heard of a politician called Harry Hart." Roxy shrugged. "We'll ask him when we get there." 

The rest of the ambulance drive was spent with Eggsy singing along to the radio while Roxy tried to concentrate more on the road. When they reach the mews, there was a bald-headed man waiting in the doorway. 

"Hiya, mate. I'm here for Harry?" Eggsy shrugged his grab bag over his shoulder. The man nodded, grabbing Eggsy's arm. 

"He's upstairs. Just in the past hour, his symptoms have gotten much worse. He can't even keep down dry toast or anything." 

"That's alright, guv. Show me up to 'im." Eggsy ran up the stairs, and the taller man opened the bedroom door for him. 

Harry was laid in bed, a very full sick bucket on the floor by him. There was a dog on his lap, which started to yap and growl at the sight of two paramedics in the doorway. Harry, honestly, looked like shit. Pale and sweaty, drooling a little. 

"Right… Does your dog bite?" 

"Misser… Pickle…" Harry garbled out, roughly patting the dog's head. "No bitin'..." 

"Oh, Rox! That's the show dog! Mr Pickle!!!" Eggsy grinned, giving the dog a pat before pulling on his gloves. "How you feeling, Harry? Like shit?"

Harry nodded, and his dry lips cracked open into a dozy smile. He tried to reply, but all that came out was a guttural moan. The man wearing the jumper held up the bucket for him, just in case, but Harry shook his head and pushed it away. 

"Noooo… Merlinnnnn…" He whined. "Don' need it…" 

"Um… Merlin, mate?" Eggsy looked up at the other man. "Do you mind holding the dog? I've got my gloves on, so I don't want them getting dirty holding him." Merlin did as he was told, holding the dog like a baby. They looked tiny in his arms. Harry, on the other hand, looked offended.

"I'll h-hav'... Y'know, Misser Pickle is certainly NOT dirty…" Harry complained, staring up at the two Eggsies looking down at him. Damn double vision. He tried to focus, but it just ended up looking like he was glaring at the people here to help him. Roxy started taking Harry's temperature and doing normal checks while Eggsy talked to Merlin. 

"Do you know what he's taken? How long's he felt like this?" Eggsy glanced down at Harry, who was playing with one of the ECG stickers on his chest. "And is your name actually Merlin? Like the wizard?" 

"No clue what he's taken. He's been feeling like this for approximately…" Merlin peered down at his watch. "Three hours, probably? He's just back from abroad. He called me an hour ago, but knowing him he's suffered in silence for a while before giving in." 

"Just sounds like bad Delhi belly, then." Eggsy smiled up at the man, but the favour wasn't returned. "And is your name Merlin? You didn't say." 

The man sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "No. It's Hamish. Harry's obviously hallucinating something." 

As if on cue, Harry burst out with "I'm a Knight of the Round Table!" 

"Course you are, mate." Eggsy said in a flat tone, but had to hide a laugh at Roxy being 'accepted' into the Round Table as Knight Lancelot. 

"Knight… Mmff… Lancelot… As Arthur, I…" Harry gripped to her free hand with a strength she didn't expect from someone suffering such bad symptoms. "Hereby… Umm…" Harry frowned up at her. "You're a knight now… The end."

"Thank you for this privilege, Harry." Roxy giggled softly, wringing her hand from his grip. "I need you to stop picking off those stickers on your chest, though. They're there for a reason." Roxy pressed down another one that Harry had plucked off. Harry nodded, but wasn't truly listening. 

Eggsy opened up his medical kit on the floor, kneeling to dig through it and squinting up at Merlin. "You given him anything to counteract the poisoning? Charcoal, ipecac syrup? Any painkillers?" 

"Nothing. I didn't want to make it worse. He's a stubborn git about pain, so he won't have taken anything either." 

Eggsy nodded, thanking the Lord. "Good. Clean slate. Harry, you listening to me?" 

"I will… Always have time to listen t'you, Galahad…" Harry winked. Eggsy mouthed 'Galahad?' in confusion, but Roxy explained that he was another knight of the round table. 

"I'm gonna give you some charcoal, Harry." Eggsy found the sachet and stood. "Rox, help me sit him up. He'll probably just choke if I give it to him lying down." The two wrapped their arms around Harry's arms and hauled him up against the headboard until he was sitting. "You've got to swallow this, alright? I know it'll probably taste weird and feel weird in your mouth, but-" He was cut off by Harry giggling. Hamish resisted the urge to slap him round the back of the head. 

"Seriously, Harry? Grow up. You're a fifty three year old man." 

Eggsy finally cottoned on, and even he had a bit of a giggle at it. "Promise it's not that, alright?" he tipped the sachet of charcoal into a syringe and then filled it with water. "You need to swallow all this. Promise you will?" Harry gave a small nod, opening his mouth and doing as he was told. Once the syringe was empty and Eggsy was sure Harry had swallowed everything, he jogged downstairs to grab the stretcher. By the time he returned, Mr Pickle was back in Harry's lap, curled up in a ball. 

"Misser Pickle." 

"That's right, Harry. Can you walk, or do you want me to help you onto the stretcher again? I'm afraid Mr Pickle can't come with us today." Harry pouted at that. God, he was childish when he was sick. 

"Carry me." Harry demanded and held out his hands. Eggsy sighed, scooping him up and placing him down gently on the stretcher. The man was absolutely drenched in sweat, the back of his monogrammed silk pyjamas all damp. "You know, Harry, the only people I pick up to put in stretchers are sweet old ladies and you. I don't know what that says about you, but…" 

"Means I'm a sweet old lady." 

"Course it does." Eggsy and Roxy worked as a team to strap Harry down and very slowly ease the stretcher down the stairs, step by step, Hamish following behind. 

"Will you be needing the sick bucket?" He asked, pulling a face as he held it up. 

"Nah, we've got bowls in the ambulance. Don't worry about it." Eggsy said as he pushed the stretcher into the back, making sure it was locked in place. "You coming with us? There's a seat here if you wanna."

"No, no… I've got… Spewy bathrooms to clean up and Mr Pickle to take care of." The forced smile on Hamish's face told everyone that he really didn't want to have those jobs. "Thank you for the offer, though." 

Eggsy nodded, waving his goodbyes to Hamish and Mr Pickle, before slamming the ambulance doors shut. "Ready to leave when you are, Rox."

"On it." 

As the ambulance drove, the sirens making Harry jump at first, Eggsy caught up on paperwork. "What's your full name, Harry?" 

"Arthur Pendragon…" 

"Funny. What's your real full name?"

"Harry… Edward… Hart."

"You fibbing?" 

"No." 

"Right, I'll put it down for the minute. Occupation?" 

"Knight of the Round Table…" 

"Real occupation?" 

"Super spy." 

Eggsy shot Harry a look. "Real occupation, Harry." 

"Tailorrrrr." Harry sighed, as if it was inconveniencing him to say it. 

"Thank you. Age?" 

"Fifty three." 

"Telling the truth first time, thank you." 

"How d'you know my age?" Harry tried to sit up more, but he was still held down by the straps on the stretcher. 

"Cause you told the phone operator when you called in, ninny." 

Harry huffed, hitting his head off the back of the stretcher. "Could be lying." 

"Could be. But you look around fifty three." Eggsy scrolled his tablet to the next question. "Any history of drug overdoses?" 

Harry paused, having to really think about that one. Over the years of being a spy, had he ever overdosed? "No." 

"Telling the truth?" 

"Yes." 

"Good lad." 

Harry, surprisingly, managed to keep all of the contents of his stomach in his body for the duration of the trip. Hopefully that charcoal was working, then. They'd give him some proper stuff at the hospital, once they'd found out what he'd been poisoned with. As the ambulance slowed down and parked outside the hospital, Harry looked around. "Here already?" 

"Yeah. Thanks for not spewing everywhere."   
Eggsy grinned as he pushed the stretcher out of the ambulance. Harry hummed as the cool air hit his face, and Eggsy just then realised how stuffy and uncomfortable the warm ambulance would have been for Harry with a fever. 

Eggsy and Roxy pushed Harry into the hospital and handed him over to the team waiting for him, giving them a list of symptoms and what he'd taken for them. Harry peered up at Eggsy, grabbing his hand before he left. "Come visit me?"

"I'll visit you after my shift ends, yeah?" 

"Thank you, Eggsy…" 

"You're welcome." 

As Roxy and Eggsy cleaned the ambulance after, making sure they were up to stock and that Harry's sweat was wiped off the stretcher, Roxy had a twinkle in her eye. "You know…" 

"What?" 

"I think Harry has a thing for you." 

"Oh, piss off!" Eggsy resisted the urge to throw the dirty sponge he was holding at her. "He's just a nice bloke."

"A nice bloke that has a thing for you." Roxy winked. Eggsy groaned, sitting on the steps into the ambulance. 

"He don't." He huffed up at Roxy, snapping off his gloves and throwing them at her instead. "I swear that bald guy was his boyfriend, anyways." 

"Or maybe just his friend. You've never looked after your friends when they're sick?" 

"Or maybe his husband. And I do it all the time, you dolt. It's my job."

Roxy balled up his gloves and threw them back at him. "Right, everything's cleaned up and you, Mister Unwin, owe me a kebab." 

"Since when did I owe you a kebab?!" Eggsy shut the back doors to the ambulance before climbing in the front with Roxy. 

"Since before we got the call to your boyfriend's." Roxy cackled at Eggsy's offended face. "You asked if we should go out for a kebab, I said yeah. Thought you meant you were buying." 

"Fine, Morton. I'll buy this time, but you have to buy tomorrow's dinner. And stop calling him my bloody boyfriend!"


End file.
